


The Things that Change

by ChisiRei



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, M/M, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-11
Updated: 2020-02-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:22:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22660048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChisiRei/pseuds/ChisiRei
Summary: Geralt realizes he misses Jaskier one morning. He's lucky enough to run into the bard not long after.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 6
Kudos: 229





	The Things that Change

**Author's Note:**

> I don't have a beta. Sorry for any typos. I didn't edit.

The forest was alive with birdsong and a bath of golden light hit Geralt's face. He groaned and pushed his hand up to block the light. He opened one eye and the other, grunting before sitting up. He glanced around his makeshift camp and sighed. He was missing the noise of the bard, he realized and gave another grunt.

They had parted ways only a few days before. He pushed a hand through his hair and got up, moving over to pet Roach and digging through the bags on the ground at her side. He pulled out a bag of preserved fruit and ate several pieces while staring out through the gap in trees to the mountain scape beyond. 

He huffed as his mind filled in what the bard would say and sing. He forcefully bit the next piece of fruit in half, ripping it apart with hand and teeth. He would surely run into the bard again, he reminded himself. As annoying as the man was, he was fond of him. 

“Just you and me Roach,” he drawled out, moving to gather his things up and pull his armor on. 

He made his way into a town a few days later, itching for a pint of ale and a chance to wash with hot water. 

There was someone playing in the corner and he forced himself to not look, he didn’t want the disappointment of it being someone else. He growled at himself and made his way to the bar. 

“An Ale,” he said and slid a coin across the counter. He turned once he had the ale in hand and let his eyes fall on the bard. He took a long drink as he watched. It was Jaskier. He smothered his smile into his drink and downed half the ale in one go. 

He didn’t think the bard had noticed him yet, he was surrounded by a gaggle of people hanging on his song, and his eyes were closed. 

Geralt got a refill and then moved over closer to the bard and took a seat. He sat, watching the man with interest as he sang a commonly popular song most bards knew. 

He smirked around his drink as Jaskier’s voice caught, as the bard laid eyes on him. He met the bard’s gaze and held it, the bard regained his composure and finished his song. 

“Thank you, thank you for your praise,” Jaskier said and bowed for the people around him before making his way over to Geralt. 

“Geralt of Rivia, I didn’t think I’d be seeing you again any time soon,” Jaskier said and took the seat across from the witcher. He leaned on the table and rose a brow. “If I didn’t know better I’d say you were looking for me,” he said in a sing song tone, teasing the other. 

“Hmm,” Geralt said with an amused tone, taking another long drink of his ale.  
“We’ve been apart for a few days and suddenly run into each other,” Jaskier said and gave a grin. “Did you come to miss my songs?” he asked and waved the barmaid down for his own ale. 

“No,” Geralt said and leaned forward. “Your songs are annoying,” he said further and set his mug down. 

“You know you love them...should I sing of your heroics?” The bard pulled up his lute and ran his fingers over the strings. 

“Don’t you dare,” Geralt said and leaned forward, threateningly. 

Jaskier laughed and set his lute down, not wanting to actually bring ire to the witcher. 

“Do you have a room?” Geralt asked and moved his hand to feel his own coin purse. He could afford a room but it would put him lower in coin than he preferred to be. 

“Yes, I do indeed, would you like to join me?” Jaskier asked and paid the bar maid as she brought his ale. 

“Yes,” Geralt answered shortly and rose a brow at the man across from him. “I need a bath too” 

“I’ll join you, I need one as well...they have springs in the back of the inn.” Jaskier said and downed his ale quickly and stood as he set it down. 

“Lets go!” he said and started to walk away. 

Geralt huffed and finished his own ale, getting up and following the bard out. 

The springs were steaming and Geralt started to strip his armor off immediately, eager to slip into hot water. His hands stilled as he watched Jaskier strip as well, the bard wore far less and was neatly folding his clothes and setting them aside. He turned his eyes to Geralt and found the Witcher’s golden gaze on him. 

“Like what you see?” Jaskier asked with a smug grin. They had travelled together and many times seen each other nude. Jaskier watched as Geralt’s eyes trailed down his form with more attention to detail than he’d ever given. 

“Yes,” Geralt said after a long pause that had Jaskier shifting awkwardly while waiting. 

Jaskier’s eyes went wide and he was taken aback, Geralt smirked ever so slightly and finished stripping himself. He piled his armor in the corner and folded his clothes over it. He grabbed a bar of soap and waded into the water. It was up tho his waist in the deepest spot and he ducked down and wet his hair, pulling the tie out of it. He scrubbed the soap into his hair and then over his body, sighing as he finally felt clean. 

Jaskier was uncharacteristically quiet, and Geralt glanced up, he found the bard staring at him, a conflicted look on his face. 

“You look like the cat got your tongue,” Geralt commented and rose a brow at the bard. 

“Years, Geralt. We’ve been friends...don’t give me that look, we are friends,” he declared, “friends for nearly ten years now and you’ve never once replied to my joking questions with a yes. What changed?” Jaskier demanded and moved closer to Geralt. 

“Nothing changed,” Geralt said and met the bard’s eyes. 

“Bull shit,” Jaskier retorted, scrubbing himself down with another bar of soap. “Something has changed.” 

Geralt growled a bit, not wanting the other to press the comment any further. He grabbed the back of Jaskier’s head and pulled him in, kissing the other roughly, swallowing the sound of surprise as Jaskier stumbled forward, bracing himself on Geralt’s chest. 

“Don’t press,” Geralt said lowly as he pulled back from the kiss. He let his hand linger on the back of Jaskier’s head for a time before he dropped it and returned to washing. 

They bathed in silence, and Geralt was quite comfortable with it, he relaxed in the heat once he was clean, and let his head tip back. 

“Can I kiss you again?” Jaskier asked as he waded over to Geralt. 

The witcher opened his eyes and leveled Jaskier with a look of contemplation. “Yes,” he said and sat up straight. 

Jaskier closed the distance between them, hands moving to Geralt’s jaw. He pressed forward, until their chests came into contact. Jaskier gave a surprised sound as Geralt’s hands fell to his waist and he pulled the bard close, pressing a thigh between Jaskier’s legs. 

“Should we go to the room?” Jaskier asked breathlessly, rolling his hips against the offered leg. He knew if he continued his motions he’d be far more affected than he wanted to be while walking back through the inn. 

“Yes,” Geralt growled and stole another kiss. First he missed the blasted bard, but then he’d desired him. And it felt like it was meant to be this way. They’d spent more time together than Geralt usually spent with anyone. He waded through the pool and dried quickly before redressing, carrying his armor and bag.

Jaskier led the way back through the inn and up the stairs, his hands full, and fumbling with the key. He gave a nervous laugh and looked at Geralt. 

Geralt rose a brow in amusement, a smile touching his lips ever so slightly. 

“You act so nervous,” Geralt said and set his bag down, slid his hand over Jaskier’s and guided the key to the lock. He turned Jaskier’s hand and gently pressed the door open. 

“I have every reason to be nervous!” Jaskier protested even as he made his way into the room he’d needed help opening. “The White Wolf is about to take me to bed, and I’ve thought of this many times but after years of disappointment and sharing beds chastely....now you’ve brought that all up again,” Jaskier got out, setting his lute down carefully before turning to Geralt. 

“You’ve thought of it?” Geralt asked and set his own things down. “You never made a move,” he said and pushed his fingers through his wet hair, slicking the strands back out of his face. 

“And neither did you until today.” Jaskier pointed out. 

“I missed you,” Geralt said, already cursing himself for saying it as the words left his mouth. “I woke up after a few days of quiet and I wanted you back, complaining about everything, begging to ride double on Roach,” Geralt took a breath, not pleased he’d had to express himself so openly. 

Jaskier had a slow smile over taking his face, “You missed me?” He clapped his hands together. “Well I’m quite surprised,” he stepped forward and fisted his hands in Geralt’s shirt. 

“Hmm,” Geralt agreed, leaning down as the other pulled him. He captured Jaskier’s lips with his own and slid a hand up to the back of his head, he nipped at Jaskier’s lip and moved to deepen the kiss. He grabbed the bard’s hips and pressed him back toward the bed. When Jaskier’s knees met the bed and he fell back, Geralt crawled over him and reinitiated the kiss. 

They kissed hungrily, hands roaming mindlessly, both consumed with tasting and feeling the other, lips working together and teeth nipping. Jaskier moaned at a particularly hard bite on his lower lip, but moaned again into the deeper kiss it earned him. He tangled one hand into Geralt’s hair and the other flew to the man’s hip, pulling them forward until their groins could rub together. 

The angle was slightly off, so they broke their kiss and put their foreheads together. Both men groaned and grunted as their clothed lengths worked together, both semi hard already. 

“Do you have oil?” Geralt asked through grit teeth, his hips rolling to keep the friction between them. 

“Y..yes,” Jaskier moaned out, head falling back onto the bedding, moaning at a change in pace where their bodies met. 

Geralt got up, hand tracing over Jaskier’s length, fingers drawing around the shape before he moved to the bard’s bags and dug through until he found a bag of different oils he knew the other used to keep his skin looking fresh. He grabbed the biggest bottle and moved back to the bed. 

Jaskier had made himself busy while Geralt had found the oil, he was pulling off the last of his clothes and tossing them away. He sat on the edge of the bed, legs splayed wide and a hand working over his length. 

He watched Geralt approach and leaned up when the witcher leaned down. They kissed again, slower and less desperate. Geralt pressed the oil into Jaskier’s hand and then backed away, pulling his shirt off and pushing his pants down, leaving it all in a heap on the ground. He crawled over Jaskier, taking the oil back. 

“Have you been taken?” Geralt asked in a rough tone. 

“Not in a while,” Jaskier said and let his head fall back, staring up at Geralt. 

“Turn over,” Geralt ordered and patted the other man’s hip. 

Jaskier was only eager to comply, turning over and lifting his hips up, knees open. He felt exposed, showing himself off to Geralt. 

The witcher ate the sight up, eyes running over every inch of exposed flesh. He opened the vial of oil without looking and slicked his first finger. He approached Jaskier and leaned down, kissing the globe of his ass before parting his cheeks, running his oiled fingers over Jaskier’s entrance. He hummed in approval and moved down, sliding his tongue against the puckered muscles. 

“Ah!” Jaskier exclaimed, his moan surprised and pleased all at once. He let his head fall and pressed his hips back to encourage the other man. He let his voice come loud and easy, pressing back against Geralt’s tongue when the other pressed in, fucking him with the slick appendage. 

Geralt worked the other open with his tongue until he could wriggle the most of his tongue into the man. He pulled back and wiped his mouth, panting and pressing a finger into Jaskier. 

“Oh fuck yes, one more,” Jaskier ordered, pressing his hips back hungrily, taking in the first finger and the closely followed second that Geralt gave him. He rolled his hips to meet every in thrust of Geralt’s fingers and gave loud, long moans of pleasure, taking in everything the witcher offered. 

Geralt worked a third finger into him and stretched his fingers apart, giving a sound of pleasure at the moan the thickness of the stretch drew from Jaskier. 

“In me, now,” Jaskier gasped out and looked over his shoulder. 

Geralt rose a brow at the tone and grabbed the oil back up. He slicked his length and moved up behind Jaskier, he teased the other man, running his length along the cleft of his ass several times, teasing at his entrance, just a press before pulling away again. He did that until Jaskier gave a sob of need, looking back. 

“Are you going to fuck me?” Jaskier demanded. 

Geralt smirked and grabbed his hip, flipping the other and moving between his legs in a series of smooth gestures. He pressed Jaskier’s legs back and lined himself up with the other man’s entrance and pressed slow and firm, savoring every inch as he filled the bard. 

He slowly filled Jaskier, and when he bottomed out he grunted, leaning over the other man and staying still a moment, eyes shut as he savored the feeling. When his eyes opened again the ring of gold was so thin that Jaskier worried the other had taken one of his potions, but the veins around his eyes didn’t shift too. 

He pulled Geralt down, hungrily kissing him just as Geralt started to pull out slowly. He pulled until just the head of his cock remained inside the smaller man. He snapped his hips to fill the other in one rapid push. He built up a pace, slow drags out of Jaskier and rapidly filling him again. He drew a cacophony of moans from Jaskier, the other lost in the pleasure. 

Geralt grunted his own pleasure, teeth ground as he focused on the pace, hands in a bruising grip on the back of Jaskier’s thighs. 

Geralt knew he wasn’t going to last much longer but he didn’t think Jaskier was even close to finishing. He grit his teeth and slowed his own pace, hand moving to stroke Jaskier’s length. He ground his hips into Jaskier every time he filled the other entirely, and each time it drew a higher pitched moan from Jaskier. 

The witcher rather liked the sound and started to aim for that spot, grinding his hips in slow, sure movements before pulling out and thrusting into him, grinding in again. 

He kept the pace up until Jaskier was sobbing his moans out, thighs trembling under Geralt’s hold. 

“I...I’m so close,” Jaskier panted between moans, hands reaching for Geralt to come down and kiss him again. He was given what he wanted and he pulled Geralt into hungry kisses, moaning into them, hips moving as much as he could bent in half. 

“Cum for me,” Geralt growled against his lips, hand returning to Jaskier’s length to stroke him through his release. 

Jaskier didn’t disappoint, he tensed up, breath catching as he fell over the edge, Geralt ground his cock into the other, fucking him through the orgasm, matching the speed of his hand on the other’s length. 

The bard went limp under Geralt and stared up, giving half a smile. “You haven’t,” he complained and shifted as Geralt slid free of him. 

“Use your hand,” Geralt said with a grin, slipping onto the bed and louging back, thighs spread and showing off for Jaskier. 

The bard ran his eyes up Geralt and felt his mouth go dry at the display. He licked his lips and cleared his throat before crawling up. He grabbed hte oil and poured some over Geralt’s length. He started moving his hands, both working over the witcher’s length. 

Geralt let his head fall back and he gave a low groan, hips rolling up to meet Jaskier’s hands. 

The bard worked him until he was panting, his breath hitching, getting close. 

He gave a loud moan of surprise as Jaskier took his length into his mouth, sucking on the head, lathing his tongue against the slit of Geralt’s cock, teasing him while his hands worked his shaft. 

“Close,” Geralt ground out, one hand moving to tangle in Jaskier’s hair. He rolled his hips and tensed up as he came, a strangled sound ripping from his throat. 

Jaskier didn’t pull his mouth off Geralt until the witcher started to soften. He swallowed the larger man’s load and licked his lips, grinning up at the larger man. 

“And why have you been holding out on me?” Jaskier asked and crawled up Geralt, resting over the broad chest, fingers moving through his chest hair. 

“Hmm,” Geralt acknowledged Jaskier’s question and turned his eyes down to the other, sighing. “I didn’t... I don’t know what changed,” Geralt said and slid one arm around Jaskier. 

“Can we travel together again?” Jaskier asked after a stretch of silence. 

“Hmm,” Geralt answered, half asleep already, fingers still idly playing over Jaskier’s back.


End file.
